


In The End, Everything Collides

by Nasobem



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Facials, Friends to Lovers, Handcuffs, Kink Discovery, M/M, Mild Painplay, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nasobem/pseuds/Nasobem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not like Louis intentionally gets himself into these situations. </p>
<p>A kink discovery fic in which it’s totally never Louis’ fault, That Wasn’t Supposed To Happen, This Isn’t A Thing and Louis definitely Isn’t Into It. At all. And anyways, this is not what he means when he says they've corrupted Liam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The End, Everything Collides

**Author's Note:**

> Don't look at me.
> 
>  
> 
> Visual for Liam spanking somebody, because that's actually a thing and someone up there must really hate me:
> 
> http://media.tumblr.com/dab17b23b43fbaba176b77d956e540e4/tumblr_inline_mrt0c8F0CL1qz4rgp.gif

Niall Horan has many talents – a truly absurd amount of them, really – but keeping a straight face while Louis is being funny is not one of them. The interviewer is getting increasingly nervous as Louis nods earnestly, his head casually resting on Liam’s chest, and while Zayn and Harry are keeping brilliant poker faces, Niall looks like he’s going to burst any second. Whatever, it’s his own fault, he started the bet.

What happened was that five hours ago, Niall had challenged Louis, saying Liam only cracked up when Louis either directly addressed or physically assaulted him. Louis had indignantly claimed he’d totally be able to make Liam break without doing either. After a heated discussion, Niall granted Louis the right to call Liam an X-Factor-era nickname of his choice, and the bet was on.

Only after they’d shook hands on it, when Louis actually thought about it, he’d noticed that the limitations did actually did rule out his main strategies for Operation Undo Payne’s Silence (OUPS). At that point he started making plans, eventually coming up with a complex scheme that would most likely grant his victory.

When the five of them settle on the sofa, Louis gets a place next to Liam with the subtlety of an elephant herd and immediately lifts his legs over Liam’s lap. Harry smiles serenely at the interviewer without even sparing them a second glance, Zayn raises an eyebrow and pushes Louis further into Liam to “make space for himself” and Niall grins like a fucking madman.

That's the nice thing about OUPS, no matter who wins in the end, they all have their fun, including Liam – no matter how much he’ll deny this.

Liam has yet to notice they’re playing though. He’s amicably groping the thigh that Louis practically shoved into his face. It’s not even intentionally naughty, just Liam being Liam, but Zayn snickers a bit as the Interviewer – Gwen, she said her name was Gwen – does a double take. 

Gwen is a sweetheart, starting off with a joke about how many tweets pleaded with her not discuss potential girlfriends and then asking Harry about writing and inspiration. Louis almost feels bad about what she’s going to have to put up with, but then the next question is the stuff his dreams are made off:

“So,” she addresses Louis, “As the oldest, do you ever feel responsible for getting everyone on stage on time and making sure things go smoothly?”

Louis shakes his head and squeezes Liam’s shoulder. “Nah,” he drawls, “I’m actually the one who is late most often, I’d say, but that’s what we have Daddy for.”

For a quick second Liam’s shoulders tense under Louis’ palms. 

Interviewer Gwen blinks owlishly. “Right,” she says after a moment of awkward silence. “That’s. Very responsible of you, uh- Liam?” 

“Is it?” Liam’s smile is charming and relaxed, and Gwen laughs, her shoulders dropping a bit. “Certainly. I should have guessed, aren’t you known as the sensible one?”

“Used to be. We’ve corrupted him,” Zayn chimes in before Liam can answer, leaning in to move Louis practically onto Liam’s lap. Louis nods in agreement.

“Absolutely. He’s never really cross with us anymore, only punishes me if I, ah,” he pauses very deliberately and licks his lips, glancing at Liam, “If I really ask for it.”

Louis ignores the arousal tingling in his veins at the sharp look that earns him from Liam.

 

Over the next twenty minutes, Louis worms his way completely onto Liam’s lap, calls him ‘Daddy’ five more times and ‘subconsciously’ sucks on his thumb for a whole minute, until Liam pulls his hand away and scolds him (Prompting number six: “Sorry, Daddy.”). Louis tries not to question why he likes that so much, Liam’s disapproving look and strong hands.

What’s weird is that Louis could swear Liam is actually going with it. He doesn’t giggle, isn’t holding back laughter, just patiently puts up with Louis’ antics. Gwen is trying not to look, mostly keeping up eye contact with Harry, who for once is the most composed one. 

Right now, he’s finishing up a lengthy answer on something Louis didn’t follow (for some reason he’s talking about bananas. Louis does not want to know). “Like, my friend actually sent me this Tupperware box that’s like, it’s shaped like a banana? That’s _really_ cool.”

Gwen perks up and shuffles her card. “What a great cue to this question we received: What are your favourite snacks on tour? Do you guys eat a lot of candy?” Poor kid, she looks like she actually believes this would be a safe question. Louis tries not to smirk. “Occasionally, yes,” he nods, giving her his sweetest smile. “Actually…”

He trails off, twists a bit to look at Liam. “Actually, I want some right now. I want a lollipop. Daddy, get me a lollipop!” Next to him, Zayn is doing this huffing noise that says he’s trying not to laugh.

Liam sighs, and then he does the one thing Louis did not expect him to do. 

He takes the game a big, shameless step further.

“Shush, babe,” Liam says, raising his brows sternly, though Louis can easily tell the grin underneath. “If you’re a good boy, Daddy will get you something nice to suck on later, yeah?”

 

Harry loses his composure, Zayn seems to choke on something and a dull noise indicates Niall actually falling off the sofa.

Louis sucks in a breath, holds it for a few seconds, and then, with a horrified, pathetic noise he swallows as best as he can, he lets go of Liam’s shirt to cover his own crotch in an involuntary reflex action.

 

The interview doesn’t end up being published, obviously, but for the next three months Louis will flinch violently and blush at the strange heat sparking low in his belly every time he hears the word ‘ _Daddy_ ’ and thinks of feeling small in Liam’s lap, having Liam smirk down at him, Liam looking so unbearably smug.

Also, Louis lost the stupid bet.

 

***

 

Zayn Beyoncé Malik is about as far away from ‘mysterious’ as anyone can be, really, if you ask Louis. He’s mostly a giant geek that likes to show off his voice and can’t dance for shit. Add weed to that, and the dancing gets a bit better. That’s why the two of them are currently thrusting their hips enthusiastically to Hips Don’t Lie, occasionally colliding with the bunks or the TV set. 

The nice thing about the tour bus is that the windows are tinted and it’s usually parked somewhere not even the most determined fan can get to, so Louis and Zayn get to indulge a bit, now that the tour is coming to an end. Also, no stuck up hotel guests will complain about the volume of their music.

Louis doesn’t hear the door open or close, but one moment he’s dipping Zayn as deep as he can (miraculously without falling over), and the next he looks up and Liam is standing there, arms crossed, smirking at the two of them.

“Liam! Lee! Leelee!,” Zayn calls out excitedly, while Louis makes an alarmed noise, and starts yelling, “Intruder! Intruder! How dare you cross the sacred borders of our kingdom?!”

“Oh shut it, Tommo,” Liam grins, “I just need to get to my bunk real quick, forgot my headphones. I’ll be out in a second.”

Louis grins back, decidedly more wicked than Liam. “Zayn,” he says, eyes still locked with Liam’s, “We’re not letting him through, are we?” When Zayn barely holds back a snicker in agreement, Louis points to Liam’s head. “Grab his snapback and run!” he orders, and like the fucking _Flash_ , Zayn jumps on Liam, snatches his hat and is out of the bus within seconds. Liam gives Louis a quick, considering look and then turns to run after Zayn.

As soon as the slow hissing noise of the door closing has faded, Louis starts collecting everything he could possibly throw at Liam: socks, a bunch of lollipops, all five pillows from their beds. Zayn must be pretty out of it though, because Louis barely has time to dump all of his ammunition right in front of the section of the bus where the bunks are, when the door opens again and Liam comes back, snapback securely on his head.

“Well, Payno,” Louis says, taking his place between Liam and the bunks, “Looks like it’s just you and me now.” Then he starts his attack, hurling stuff at Liam as fast as he can.

Unfortunately, Liam is stupidly built nowadays, and not much affected by being hit with pillows, no matter how hard Louis throws them. He just stands there, hands in his pockets, and waits for Louis to run out of ammunition.

 

In the end, Louis bends over to catch his breath, hands on his knees to support himself, looking up at Liam through his sweaty fringe. “You still have to get past me,” he wheezes.

Liam looks pretty smug. He starts strolling over to Louis, and Louis worries he’s just going to run straight into him, but at the last second, just before Louis has a chance to straighten up, he jumps to the side, takes another step so he’s standing next to Louis, and grabs him around the waist. Louis might squeal a bit, but only because at first he expects Liam to pick him up like that, so he’ll be in the air upside down. He’s done that before.

A few seconds later, Louis desperately wishes Liam had picked him up, because anything would have been preferable to this. _This_ being a big hand coming down on Louis’ butt with a loud smack.

 

Louis freezes. Liam’s arm around his middle is immovable, so there’s no way of escaping, Louis just has to stand there, bent over, where he can’t even see Liam’s face, and hope Liam’s going to leave it at that.

Nothing happens for as long as it takes Louis to collect himself a bit, enough to get out something vaguely resembling a laugh. “Right, very funny, mate. You win. Whatever. Let me go now, kiddo, yeah, I’ll even let you-“

“ _Let me_?” Liam interrupts him. “You really think you’re still in charge?” And he fucking does it again, slaps Louis with the flat of his palm, this time a little lower. Sparks of heat start crawling through Louis’ veins, and he’s suddenly overly conscious of his body. A third smack follows, Liam’s hand impossibly big where it lingers on Louis’ arse for a second. It doesn’t really hurt much, but still, it’s Liam spanking him.

“Oh my god, I get it, okay,” Louis groans, praying he sounds more annoyed than aroused. “I admit defeat. You can do whatever you want. I’ll be sure not to screw with Daddy Direction, since apparently that gets me a spanking now.”

He can feel Liam laughing next to him. “You call that a spanking? I’ve barely hit you three times, that’s nothing. Come on, Lou, surely this isn’t your first time.”

That makes Louis blush, not only because it would be, actually, since his parents never used violence on him, but because Liam sounds so cocky and he’s belittling Louis and Liam’s never, ever talked to him like that, and it’s doing things to Louis. 

 

He tries not to let it get to him, but it’s not easy, especially because his mind is still pretty hazy from smoking with Zayn. To make matters worse, a sudden and very vivid memory is what makes it through the mist: sitting on Liam’s lap for OUPS during that one interview ages ago, in America, calling Liam ‘Daddy’ and Louis should have _known_ this was a bad idea. He makes another attempt at escaping Liam’s grip.

When squirming more only earns him another slap, Liam’s fingers coming down just under his bum, Louis decides to do the only reasonable thing and go completely slack. It’s a brilliant plan, Liam making a little ‘Oompf’ and letting Louis drop to the floor, but it has the side effect of Louis’ hard dick being pressed against the linoleum, and shit, when did _that_ happen? 

Okay, no. Louis knows exactly when ‘that’ happened. He just doesn’t want to think about it. Not with Liam. He can’t. Liam’s off limits.

Louis deems it safer to stay on the floor for now. He crosses his arms under his chin and listens to Liam walking past him after a short pause, then there’s some rustling, and finally Liam comes back to Louis’ field of vision, headphones dangling from his pockets.

“You alright?” he asks, squatting and looking only mildly concerned. Louis shrugs and stares back defiantly. “Yup, just peachy. Loving it down here. Pity I won’t let you lie down with me.”

Liam grins. “Yeah, pity,” he nods, giving Louis’ hair a playful tug that makes Louis’ dick twitch. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Just before the door closes, Louis calls out after Liam, “Just so you know, Payno, I let you win!” and gets a laugh in reply. Then he’s alone, gets to turn over with a groan and curl up on his side, worming a hand into his sweats and grabbing his dick with a soft whimper. 

As he’s jerking off on the floor where Liam left him, Louis tries to tell himself that It’s Not A Thing. It wasn’t a Thing during that dreadful interview and it’s not a Thing now.

It would probably be easier to make himself believe that if Liam’s condescending, smug voice wouldn’t still be ringing in his ears.

 

***

 

Harry Styles does not deserve a “Villain of the Year” award, Louis thinks grimly, trying to move so his arms won’t fall asleep. Harry would be literally the worst villain ever. If this is the result of his most carefully planned prank so far, Louis does not want to see him trying to intentionally harm someone.

“Harold,” Louis says slowly and with all the patience he can muster, “Please tell me I did not understand that correctly. Tell me you did not lose the key.”

Harry actually wrings his hands, eyes wide and keeping a safe distance to Louis. “I, uh. I don’t, I mean. I didn’t lose it, I think. Dunno where it would be other than my flat, really, I just, I forgot to bring it, yeah?”

Louis groans and leans back into the pillows that Harry has stuffed under his shoulders, so that he’s halfway between sitting and lying down. “I can’t believe you’d actually be this bad at pranking me.” Waggling his toes, he wonders absentmindedly how long the bright pink will stay on, or if he’ll have to make Harry buy nail polish remover. “And anyways,” he continues, “you realise you could have just gone and said the handcuffing was the main part of the prank, right?”

The look on Harry’s face immediately makes Louis feel better. “Right, yeah. Anyways. I’ll just,” he turns, gesturing towards the door, “Go and get the keys. I’ll be back in like, less than an hour, okay, Lou? And, uh, I really am sorry. And I’ll call once I have them!”

Then he is gone, and Louis is left handcuffed to his own bed. “You are aware that I can’t exactly answer my phone like this, aren’t you?” he asks the empty room. 

The silence that answers him rings in his ears. He wishes Harry would have at least had the decency to turn on the telly.

 

Louis spends a bit over fifteen minutes staring at his pink toenails. Then the clock on his bedside table makes that funny little noise that signals the full hour, and just as he hears someone unlocking the door, Louis remembers Liam coming over for some lyric writing.

“Lou?” Liam’s voice comes from the hall, “Louis? You home? It’s Liam,” – like Louis wouldn’t recognize his voice on helium – and then something that sounds suspiciously like “You better not be wanking, idiot”.

 

Louis is torn between being quiet and hoping he’ll go (or making obnoxious sex noises and hoping he’ll go) and telling him to come in and not run away, when Liam just walks into the bedroom after barely knocking.

“Oh, wow, kinky” he says, only mildly impressed, and they really have corrupted him, haven’t they.

“Not kinky at all actually,” Louis corrects him, “Harry was trying to prank me by painting my toe- and fingernails while I’m defenceless, and then he forgot the keys at home.”

Liam frowns. “Why didn’t he just say that cuffing you to the bed was the main goal?”  
“That’s exactly what I said,” Louis cries out dramatically, lifting his legs and dropping them back onto the bed to make up for his lack of gesticulation. “How was this kid _ever_ nominated for Villain of the Year?”

Shrugging, Liam walks over to the head end of the bed. “Those are pretty nice cuffs, innit, proper leather and all,” he says, leaning over Louis to inspect them.

Louis huffs. “Since when do you know anything about proper handcuffs.”

Liam raises his eyebrows and gives him a significant look that Louis can’t quite figure out for a second. Then the penny drops, and he goes, “Oh,” softly, and again, “oh, when Liam smirks.

 

There’s a rather awkward silence, though Louis suspects it might just be awkward from his end. “So,” he says eventually, “Can’t really write songs like this, Payno. I guess you’ll have to come back la-“

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” Liam very rudely interrupts him, and then he doesn’t even wait for an answer, just shoves up Louis’ t-shirt with one hand and twists his right nipple with the other.

 

Louis simultaneously curls up as far as he can, tries to bend away from Liam and moans, breathless and entirely against his free will.

 

Liam blinks at him.

“Wow,” he says, losing all sensitivity within seconds, “Did you just _moan_?”

“I did not,” Louis snaps, maybe a bit too fast.

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

Unfortunately, Louis is still handcuffed and laid out like a present, so all Liam has to do to prove his point is reach over and twist his other nipple. This time, Louis’ moan is choked off, but still loud enough and followed by a bit of red tinging his cheeks. The tension in the room skyrockets within the span of a few breaths.

Liam swallows audibly. 

“Are you, like. Into that?”

Louis doesn’t dignify him with an answer, just stares straight ahead, but he is betrayed by his blush deepening several shades. Next to him, he can hear Liam take a deep, steadying breath. He sits down on the mattress, watches Louis’ face.

“Is it having your nipples played with in general?” Liam asks then. He’s keeping his hands to himself for now, which Louis is rather grateful for. “Or is it the pain? Or maybe the handcuffs? C’mon, Lou. Tell me.”

Louis glares at him. “Don’t know why it’s any of your business, and none of that, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Liam doesn’t do anything, just smirks down at him, and somewhere in the back of his head, Louis feels disappointment spreading. He twitches a bit in surprise and humiliation when he understands why, because yeah, okay, he wanted Liam to do it again. He’s actually disappointed that Liam didn’t pinch him. Fuck.

“Do you know what I think?” 

Louis stays silent, too busy freaking out internally.

“I think it’s all of it, Louis. I think you like all of this.” Liam doesn’t sound 100 percent sure, and about as breathless as Louis feels, but still frighteningly confident.

When Louis still won’t answer, Liam leans over him, and waits until Louis reluctantly looks him into the eyes.

 

“If you want me to stop,” Liam says, and for a moment he looks very sincere and a bit anxious, “Shake your head now, or say ‘stop’, okay?” And he licks his lips and sits back up, never breaking eye contact, waiting for Louis’ response.

Louis heart beats painfully fast in his chest, and he only then becomes aware of how hard he’s gotten, and he’s terribly embarrassed and humiliated and not sure if that isn’t maybe contributing to how turned on he is. But the thing is, it’s Liam, and Louis can trust Liam completely, trusts him to know what Louis needs, to understand.

 

So Louis, still blushing like crazy, doesn’t shake his head and doesn’t tell Liam to stop. He averts his eyes, stares straight ahead again and clears his throat. 

“You’re being silly,” he says. “Why would I like this? You’re just imagining things.”

And this time, it works. The smirk is back, and Liam just casually reaches out and gets Louis’ nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Louis has to suppress a whimper before Liam even actually tugs, and when he does, the moan escaping Louis is so loud that the neighbours probably heard it.

“What was that?” Liam pets Louis’ chest in the parody of an apology. “Did I imagine that, too?”

Louis glares at him. “Fuck you,” he snarls, trying to knee Liam in the ribs but being slow enough that Liam can easily catch him. He’s probably being a bit too obvious with that, because Liam snickers. “Don’t extort yourself or anything, Lou,” he scoffs, holding down Louis’ leg just above his knee.

Louis’ attempt at saying something witty about that is crushed when he tries to pull away his leg, not even fully consciously, and Liam doesn’t even have to strain to keep him in place. He’s so fucking strong. Louis gapes a bit hazily down at Liam’s hand. By now he’s uncomfortably hard in his tight jeans.

Liam notices, of course. He hesitates just a second, like he’s testing the waters again, and then says: “Wow, Lou, is that the best you can do? You really are pathetically weak.”

Louis whimpers and tries to hide his face when Liam laughs at his embarrassment. Liam, who is usually the first to ensure Louis gets his space when he wants it, takes his chin in one hand and forces him to look at Liam. “Aw, look at you. You really get off on this, don’t you? Being weaker than me, being helpless. You like that.”

And God, does Louis like it. 

 

After watching Louis squirm for a few moments, Liam shifts his weight, moves to straddle Louis and puts his hands on Louis’ hips, stroking up and down his sides. “Such a pretty little thing,” he murmurs, and then bends down to bite down on Louis’ neck quite hard. It feels amazing, the shock and the dull pain and the feeling of being marked up.

Louis doesn’t say that though. “Are you a fucking _caveman_ or what,” he snaps, voice just wrecked enough for the insult to fall completely flat. 

Instead of answering, Liam grinds down on Louis’ dick a bit, just enough to make Louis whine but by far not as much as Louis would like. Liam does it again, followed by a sharp bite on Louis’ collar bone. “Yeah, no. Not buying a fucking word that’s coming out of your mouth right now,” he says, smiling beatifically as he slides his hands up Louis’ torso and goes back to pinching his nipples.

By now, Louis is making a constant stream of small, needy noises, panting and involuntarily arching into Liam’s touch. At a particularly harsh tug, he yanks at the handcuffs, hips bucking up when they don’t give an inch. “Look at you,” Liam croons, “Look at how you like it, how you like being all helpless and at my mercy.”

Louis breathes out another ‘fuck you’, and then, with fierce determination, he pulls up one knee sharply, aiming right for Liam’s crotch. It’s not very effective, but Liam does wince a bit, and then scowls at Louis, making his skin tingle and his cock jump with expectation.

“That wasn’t very nice, Louis. You shouldn’t do that.”

Louis scoffs, goes for condescension in the hopes that that’ll be most effective on Liam. “Should I not? Whatcha gonna do though, Liam, if I do it again, huh? You gonna hit me?”

The “Maybe I will” comes immediately, and for a second Liam looks like he didn’t mean to say it. But then he sees the tiny, victorious smile that Louis can’t quite hide for a second, and he sucks in a breath and moves down against Louis’ leg again, this time needing some friction himself rather than teasing Louis.

Looking Liam dead in the eyes, Louis jerks up his other knee, this time probably even less effective but so, so much more loaded.

 

Liam takes a deep breath. “The fucking nerves you have,” he hisses. Then he sits up, grabs Louis’ hips and shoves him up the bed a bit, so that he has to bend his arms further and ends up with his cuffed hands on either side of his neck, which – Louis shudders a bit. That way, Liam could reach his cheeks, if he’ll actually hit Louis.

“I warned you,” Liam says, his voice suddenly almost soft, and he raises one hand, pausing and locking eyes with Louis. Louis doesn’t tell him to stop, doesn’t shake his head.

For a few long, terribly long moments, the only noises in the room are the ticking of the clock on Louis’ bedside table, Louis’ panting and Liam’s deep, shaky breaths.

Eventually, Louis tilts his head, presenting his left cheek. 

It’s comforting that, just for a second, he can see the awe in Liam’s eyes as he takes another steadying breath. Then he slaps Louis, not with his full strength but hard enough that it will probably bruise, and Louis keens and whines, shudders and writhes under Liam, and all it takes is Liam moving the slightest bit so one of his thighs presses down on Louis dick and Louis is coming in his pants with a gasp and a small groan.

Liam doesn’t get it at first, watching Louis breathlessly and resting his hand on Louis’ chest. It’s only when his hand strokes downward over his belly, when Liam’s wrist brushes over Louis’ crotch, where his jeans are wet and sticky, that Liam’s eyes widen and he realises what happened.

 

Suddenly, the humiliation is so overwhelming that Louis shaking, and he squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to see the look on Liam’s face.

Only Liam doesn’t laugh at him, or mock him in any way. There’s a gentle hand on is neck, a thumb brushing tenderly over Louis’ reddened cheek. “Such a good boy,” Liam whispers, “Such a pretty boy, so wonderful, so good.”

Louis opens his eyes, watches Liam dazedly. “Good f’you,” he mumbles, not sure if it’s a question or an affirmation.

“Yes you were, you were so good for me,” Liam returns, smiling down at Louis, eyes full of fondness and amazement.

Liam’s hard too, Louis notices then, and he bites his lip and swallows. Liam liked this, too.

Apparently Louis staring at his dick reminds Liam of it as well, and he sits back abruptly, pulls down his trousers and starts jerking off, gaze fixed on Louis flushed, blissed out face.

It makes Louis twitch and before he can stop himself, he asks: “Will you come on my face?”

His voice is a bit rough and breaks on the last words, and Liam’s breath hitches. He shifts forward, leaning over Louis and moving his hand over his cock as Louis watches. Louis wants to touch, but he also likes having to just lie there and wait for Liam to finish. His heartbeat goes up a notch again.

“Come on, _please_ ,” Louis whimpers eventually, and he really shouldn’t be this eager to get Liam’s jizz all over his face, but he doesn’t have the time to be properly embarrassed about it because Liam comes with a drawn out moan, comes all over Louis’ face, getting him dirty and marking him up, and if Louis hadn’t come just minutes ago, he certainly would have now. There’s come in his eyelashes, on his lips and cheekbones.

They both breathe heavily for a while, Liam holding himself up over Louis with shaky arms. 

“Thank you,” Louis says then, because that’s literally the first thing to come to his mind, and he should really shut up until his brain to mouth filters are back up, but Liam just laughs weakly and climbs off Louis, falling down onto the bed next to him and snuggling up to him. “Oh, Lou. Wow. I can’t believe we did this. That you let me – you did so good, Lou, you’re so amazing.” 

He keeps whispering praise and reassurances into Louis’ ear, petting his tummy and giving him little kisses on the cheek that still burns a bit. It’s a good burn.

 

A bit later, when they’ve both calmed down, Liam goes and fetches a flannel to clean them both up as best as he can. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, and when Louis nods, “Are…are we okay?”

Louis nods again, this time a bit unsure. His heart is beating too fast again, and Liam is being so, so sweet with him, it’s almost too much.

 

The moment is broken when there’s a knock on the door and Harry comes in, beaming at them and dangling a set of keys from one hand, seemingly entirely unsurprised to see Liam, or Liam and Louis in the state they are in, for that matter.

“I got the keys!” Harry says brightly, coming over to Louis’ side to unlock the cuffs. Louis is really glad about the soft leather, because otherwise his wrists would probably be bruised for ages. “Took you long enough,” he huffs. “What’s up with that anyways, did you not find them or summat?”

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Nah,” he grins at them, “Just didn’t want to interrupt you. Would have ruined the whole plan, right?”

Louis will kill him. As soon as he can be arsed to leave the bed, anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to all you who liked 'They Sure Do Grow Up Fast' and gifted me with comments and kudos. Thank you guys so much! I hope maybe some of you like this one, too.


End file.
